


The Monster I've Become

by Victorious56



Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Injury Recovery, M/M, Major Character Injury, Not graphically described, a bedroom scene, in that James is not metallised at this point, not explicit at all, of sorts, oh and a nipple makes a guest appearance, pre vol2 by some way at the start
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:50:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26510155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Victorious56/pseuds/Victorious56
Summary: James had not expected love, or anything like it, to come calling. But it does, and for a while he can be happy. Life, however, has other plans for him.
Relationships: Clover Ebi/James Ironwood
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the lyrics of [_Monster You Made_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DSSfGQU90uY) by _Pop Evil_.

_They wouldn't let Clover in to see him._

_There was a possibility of infection; he was too heavily sedated; they couldn't risk a disruption to his mental state._

_Clover almost laughed at that last excuse._

_When someone has lost part of their body, and is being kept alive by machines, what was their mental state likely to be? Not exactly tranquil._

_He reasoned, he pleaded, he shouted. It made no difference._

_He was not allowed to see James, and his heart was breaking._

❖

What was an eager soldier to do, when a superior officer singled them out?

Clover knew he was... not special, exactly. But noticeable. His semblance of good fortune had helped him throughout his career, and it was to Clover's credit that he wasn't an insufferable asshole because of it.

When General Ironwood took Clover to one side, before he was promoted to Captain, the younger man was proud. Nervous, apprehensive. But proud that he had caught James' eye. Proud to receive his compliments.

It took Clover a little while to understand he had caught James' eye for other reasons, too— not only for his military prowess.

When the General had called Clover into his office, told him to stand easy, and invited him to dinner, Clover didn't have any response. _The General has asked me on a date?_ He couldn't process the sentence.

"S-Sir?"

James smiled, his blue eyes losing their usual cold cast, the crinkles at the corners somehow making him look younger. "I asked if I could take you out. For a meal."

"Uh... permission to speak freely, sir."

"Of course, Clover. That's exactly what I want."

Clover breathed deeply. "You are my superior officer, and... somewhat older than me, sir. Is this appropriate?"

James' smile faltered. "I'm so sorry, I... this isn't some kind of power game, or..." He stood abruptly, crossing to the tall windows which looked over the city.

"I'm sorry if you feel I've overstepped a line here, Clover. The fact is, I wasn't sure if I should say anything. But—" He turned around. "I'm not getting any younger, and I... I find that I've been thinking about you rather a lot lately. However—" James squared his shoulders, standing taller. "If the idea is... if you don't feel you could..." He broke off, looking at the younger man helplessly.

"You see what effect you have on me." He smiled ruefully, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

Clover's brain, initially sluggish as he tried to comprehend what the General was saying, had caught up as the other fell silent. He ran a hand through his brown hair.

"I wasn't expecting this, sir. It's a lot to take in."

"Of course, of course. And... if the idea holds no appeal for you, then it shall go no further, and we will not mention it again."

Clover gazed at his superior. He had huge admiration for the General, on a professional level. It had never occurred to him to consider James as anything other than a soldier. Now as he looked at the other's face, a look of hope in James' small smile and raised eyebrow, Clover saw a man. _Probably a lonely man. Not that pity would be reason enough..._

"My concern, sir, would be for any future working relationship, if anything personal was to... get in the way."

"Of course, I fully understand. This is why I held back... but we're both professional enough to negotiate that pitfall, should it arise."

Clover rubbed his face, biting on a fingernail. James was not unattractive, not at all. Formal, a little awkward, but just a man like himself...

"We could have dinner. See how we get on. Although..." Clover laughed. "Dinner with the boss is a bit of a cliche, isn't it?"

"It is, rather." James huffed out a long breath. "So, shall I arrange something? Do you have a favourite cuisine, or... is there anything you _don't_ like?"

"I'm easy, anything will be fine." Clover smiled, his shoulders finally relaxing. "Thank you, sir."

"James. You can call me James."

❖

That was how it had started.

The first meal out had been stilted, not at all comfortable, to begin with. Shaking off the constraints of the military hierarchy was difficult. James wondered if it was even possible.

The conversation was not far removed from a strategy meeting. The two men had much in common, but found it difficult to progress beyond the comfort of their army background. Even in the opulent surroundings of the five-star restaurant James had chosen.

It wasn't until the dessert came, and Clover told James how his mother always made apple pie on a Sunday, that the mood seemed to soften. James recalled that his own mother made rice pudding, and after this simple exchange of memories, the atmosphere lightened considerably.

They walked back to the barracks, the silence between them not as uncomfortable as earlier. When they reached the point where their routes diverged, they stopped.

"Thank you for a nice evening, Clover." James smiled a little sadly. He did not expect there to be another.

"Thank you. It was a bit strange, but... I enjoyed it." Clover looked up into James' face. He was a few inches taller; Clover found he rather liked the sensation.

"Well, as I said, this will not make any difference to our working relationship. We will simply put it behind us, and—" he broke off when he saw the frown on Clover's face. "What is it?"

"Is that it, then? Don't I get to ask you out in return?"

James' face flushed, his lips parting in surprise. "I didn't imagine..."

"You're such a confident man when you're the General— almost daunting, sometimes. But, out of uniform, we're not so different." Clover took his hand. "I thought we'd got over the strangeness of it quite well. I thought—"

Clover's words were stopped by a light kiss on his mouth, which, after a momentary hesitation, he returned. James' lips were warm, and softer than he'd expected. Their other hands joined together, lips eventually parting as James took a small step back.

"It has been some while since I... since I was in a relationship."

"I've not been that busy myself. Kind of comes with the job, doesn't it?" Clover smiled. "Maybe we'd be doing each other a favour."

"That's an odd way of putting it. But... I did enjoy this evening, even if it didn't seem like it."

"I think you've forgotten how to relax, James. How to let go."

"You're right. Though I feel quite relaxed now."

"Well then, let's not stop before we've even started." Clover pulled the taller man towards him, finding his mouth in a hungrier kiss. James slid a cautious arm around his waist, their bodies pressing together. After a breathless minute or two, Clover pulled back.

"I'm going to have trouble keeping a straight face at work tomorrow," he said somewhat shakily.

"We have to be completely professional, if this is to work." James' face was grave as he looked down at Clover.

"I know. It just won't be that easy."

"You'll manage, Clover. You're a good soldier. And I will manage too."

"Yes, sir." Clover grinned, withdrawing his hand. "But I should go now."

"You should. And— thank you again. For this evening."

With one last smile, Clover left James standing at the corner of the building. His forehead was wrinkled as he rubbed at his cheek, before walking slowly towards his own quarters.

❖

Clover decided they should go to the cinema. He chose a comedy, and it was a good choice. James laughed throughout, exchanging a few words occasionally with Clover, who felt much more relaxed this time.

As they walked back afterwards, James' hand brushed against Clover's. He clasped the tentative fingers, leaning a little towards the taller man as they went.

"It's nice to hear you laugh."

"It's good to get the chance to. Not much call to laugh in our job." James felt almost weightless, wondering if the touch of Clover's hand was enough to keep him tethered to the ground.

"That's true. It's not a job you can do lightly, is it? It's almost a calling." Clover realised yet again how similar they were. _Is that a good thing? I guess we'll find out..._

When they arrived at the spot where their paths separated, James paused.

"Would you like to come up for a coffee? Or some other refreshment?" He glanced at Clover, his tone hesitant.

"Coffee would be good, decaf if you've got it."

"I do. Or there's herbal tea if you prefer?" They began to walk towards the senior officers' quarters.

"Coffee's fine." Clover smiled, feeling James' whole body relax beside him as they continued walking.

❖

James' quarters—more of a small apartment, really—were as pristine as Clover expected. Except for one corner of the large, open plan living space, where an easel stood, surrounded by stacked canvases and other painting paraphernalia.

"You paint?" The astonishment in Clover's voice made James smile.

"I know, who would have thought it? I find it helps me relax. And no, before you ask, I won't show you anything. Except this one." He gestured to a large framed painting on the wall, and Clover went closer to take a better look.

It was the Atlas skyline, depicted in an abstract way. The many different shades of blue, with elements of yellow and white, made a striking image. James joined him, smiling slightly.

"I shouldn't boast, but I do rather like this one."

Clover glanced at him. "It matches your eyes." A horrified look crossed his face. "What a cheesy thing to say!"

James laughed. "Don't apologise, that was quite... touching." He raised a hand and briefly brushed the side of Clover's face. "I'm sorry, is that—"

"It's fine, James." Clover felt a flare of heat in his abdomen, catching James' hand and holding it where it rested. After a long moment, James lowered his arm.

"I'll make those coffees."

He went to the kitchen, trying to get his breath under control. In a single moment, he felt the situation had turned, become something more. _This is what I hoped for... isn't it?_ The expression on Clover's face was one he had not seen for far too long. A flash of naked longing, of desire... for him.

James leant against the counter. _Is this fair? To either of us? Should I stop it, right now?_

He knew he wouldn't.

He carried the mugs back to the living room, placing them on coasters on the low glass table. Clover was sitting on one of the two long sofas, one ankle resting across his opposite knee. His arm stretched along the back, a hand idly stroking the black leather. _He looks comfortable. Like he's made himself at home_.

James smiled, willing his hands to stop trembling. He took a seat on the other sofa, sitting back stiffly.

Clover frowned. "Is everything okay? Are _you_ okay?"

James willed his shoulders to loosen. "I am, honestly. It's only— I've not been in this position for many years, I'm afraid. And... I'm still having the internal debate. Whether this is fair to you, whether I'm being selfish. Whether you're only here because it seems like I've ordered you to do it." He stared at the table, face flushed.

"James, stop talking crap." Clover's voice was brusque, almost harsh. "I know you're older than me, senior to me, but... I'm not exactly fresh out of the Academy, am I? Please give me credit for knowing my own mind, and making my own decisions about this. About us. Assuming there is an _us_ , that is."

James leant forward, taking his coffee with both hands. "I'm sorry, Clover. I seem to be second guessing every thought, every feeling I have." He put the mug down again. "And there are a lot of those at the moment."

Clover reached for his mug. "Yeah, I know." His voice was softer as he looked at James. "It's taken me a bit by surprise. It's not unwelcome, though." He smiled at the other man. "The coffee is good, thank you."

James laughed. "I can still get that right, at least."

❖

The coffees were finished, and Clover stood up. "I need to get back, or I'll be getting very little sleep tonight." _Hmm, probably could have phrased that better._

James followed him to the door. "That was an enjoyable evening. Would you—"

"Like to do it again? Yeah, I would." Clover turned back, pulling James into a close embrace. "You know I would." His muffled voice tickled against the other man's ear, as James slid his arms around Clover's waist.

There was no preamble this time. No slow, tentative brush of the lips. No halting, hesitant press of the tongue.

James poured years of longing into his desperate, clumsy, fumbling search for Clover's mouth. Longing for a closeness he had rarely had; a warmth he had sought, but never found.

Clover slowed him, steadied him, even as his own hands moved across James' chest, marvelling at the sensation of embracing a man taller than himself. A man whose build was the equal of his own, whose strength, he was sure, would match his. The prospect left him light-headed.

James' hands moved down, pulling Clover closer, his breath hot against Clover's neck. There was a moan, a desire for more, building in James' chest, and Clover felt the older man harden against him. Felt his own body respond.

"James, wait." Clover pulled away, his breath hitching in his throat. "Not yet. Maybe soon, but not yet." Clover looked up into blue eyes, dark in the dimly lit hall. "Part of me wants to. I think you know which part." He laughed shakily. "But... it's too soon. Too fast. For me."

James' arms fell away as he stepped away. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what—"

Clover took his hand. "We both know what that was. Let's not rush, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

James raised Clover's hand to his lips. "You're quite right, of course. It's just—"

"I know." Clover held his gaze. "I know. But— it's time I left."

He leant in and kissed James softly, then opened the door and stepped into the corridor.

"See you tomorrow, I expect."

"You will. And... thank you, Clover."

Clover set off for his own quarters, as James closed the front door softly. He rested his forehead against the wooden panelling, his breath slowly steadying, before turning away to prepare for bed.


	2. Chapter 2

For the next few months, Clover felt he was leading two entirely separate lives.

The first, the model soldier, performing every task assigned to him to the best of his ability. Following orders, issuing orders, the military formality firmly in place.

The second, an increasingly intense relationship, which both exhilarated and scared him. He knew James felt the same, even though they hadn't had that conversation. It was there in every kiss, every embrace, every weighted look between blue eyes and green.

They did not try to hide it from other members of staff. Clover was insistent.

"This is nothing to be ashamed of. We're both capable of conducting ourselves appropriately. Out of uniform, of course, is another matter..."

They had yet to cross that final line. James wanted to, thought about it far more than he felt he should. Clover wanted to, but something held him back. _Not yet, not yet..._ James was, if not content, then prepared to wait until Clover was ready.

❖

After another meal out— _I've never eaten so well—_ Clover passed a mug of coffee to James, who was sitting on _his_ sofa, for a change.

"I remember living in quarters like these. That was a long time ago, now."

"It's not bad. Not a patch on yours, though."

"You'll get promotion, Clover. It's a matter of when, not if. Then you'll qualify for bigger quarters."

"There is _one_ good thing about this place." Clover fixed James with a heavy look. "It has a double bed."

James set the coffee mug down with a small clatter. "What are you saying?"

"You don't have to leave tonight. If you want to stay, then stay."

"You know that's what I want." James wished his voice, usually so steady, hadn't wavered quite so much.

Clover was grateful to James for letting him decide when the time seemed right. Now it did, and as the two men pulled off the last items of clothing, he stepped around the bed and placed his hands on James' biceps.

"Wait a minute, I want to look at you." Clover held him at arms' length, his eyes tracking up from floor level to meet James' flushed face. The older man was chewing on his lower lip, trying to focus on Clover's face, whilst wanting to also enjoy the view he had of the younger man's toned body.

Clover stepped forward, one hand on James' chest, thumb chafing a hard nipple. As their bodies brushed together, James couldn't hold back a moan.

"Clover, we need to do something, or I swear I will explode."

"Sounds good to me." Clover's hand trailed lower, as he pushed James onto the bed.

❖

Some time later—panting, coated in perspiration, and completely sated—James rolled onto his side, pulling Clover against his chest.

"I have no idea what to say. That was... exceptional." His shaky breath was hot against Clover's hair, as he held the younger man closely.

Clover took his hand, kissing the fingers one by one. "I enjoyed it too." James smiled at the teasing tone of his reply.

For a while they lay quietly, enjoying the drowsy contentment which followed the previous heady euphoria.

"You know, I was married once. Long ago." James' unexpected words drifted almost sleepily over Clover's shoulder.

"I didn't know."

"My family were very... strait-laced. Certain things were expected of me, and I couldn't... I never told them who I was... _what_ I was. So I married a nice girl from a respectable family, and lived a lie from that moment on. Until my father died, and then my mother told me. She had known I was gay for years, but never had the courage to say anything while he was alive. My wife and I divorced, and since then... I have lived a quiet life." His laugh was bitter.

Clover shifted round to face him. "That was then. This is now." He kissed the other man softly. "This is you, being you. I hope it wasn't a disappointment." He pushed some damp strands of dark hair away from James' forehead.

"You know very well my feelings on the matter." James' lip quivered as he met Clover's eye.

"Good. Let's get some sleep, then." After one more slow kiss, Clover wriggled back round to press himself back against James' chest. "Goodnight, James."

"Goodnight, Clover."

❖

Clover was proud of himself when he received promotion to Captain. James was possibly even prouder.

"You've had to work so hard, proving your semblance isn't making it easy for you. We should go out, to celebrate."

Clover chose a restaurant in Mantle. It wasn't as elegant as one James would have chosen, but the food was excellent, he had to admit.

They had nearly finished the main course, when both their scrolls buzzed at the same time. There was an incursion of Centinels, only a few blocks from where they were sitting.

"We have to go and see if we can help." James quickly settled the bill, and they gathered their jackets to leave.

A faint tremor ran through the floor. Clover shot a worried look at James, before another, much stronger vibration caused the other diners to call out in alarm.

"Everybody out!" James' strong voice cut through the clamour, and he turned to usher some of the slower customers towards the door. Clover headed to the front, shooing people through the doorway, and almost lost his footing as the ground caved in behind him. A huge Centinel emerged from the pit, and he withdrew Kingfisher to confront it.

A deep rumble, followed by an ominous creaking, made him look up. The back of the restaurant building collapsed into the gaping hole, crushing the Centinel as it did so.

"James!" He tried to run back, but he was too late. James had fallen into the hole, along with some of the other diners, and a huge amount of masonry.

Clover stood, aghast. His brain refused to process anything other than the simple fact that James had gone, whilst he remained, safe and unscathed, a smattering of dust coating his hair.

❖

The Grimm had been repelled, eventually, but at a terrible cost. Many civilian lives were lost, and the damage to property was tremendous.

And then there was James. Pulled from the wreckage of rubble, twisted metal, and bodies of those who had perished. But alive, still breathing. Just.

Clover had waited impatiently, for hours, as the rescue mission progressed. When James' body was brought up, he stared for one horrified moment, before turning away and crouching to vomit on the floor. _How can he still be alive? He's... ruined. Beyond repair._ Hot tears coursed down Clover's face as he watched the ambulance move away.

❖

And now they wouldn't let him in. To see James, or... what was left of him.

Clover sat in the waiting area outside the ICU, hours passing, with no news. He didn't notice the movement as someone took the seat beside him. A hand reached out, closing over his own. He stared at it, before looking up dumbly.

"Winter? What—"

"You need to come away, Clover. This isn't helping... you, or him." Her eyes were bright, but her voice was firm. She tugged gently on his hand. "Come on, come away. You can come back later."

Winter stood up, pulling Clover to his feet. She led him down the corridor, back to his quarters, and tucked him into bed. She waited until she saw he was finally asleep, biting her lip as she watched the tears squeeze out from under his closed eyelids.

❖

It took months, for James' wrecked body to be reassembled, piece by piece. He was a medical miracle, a marvel, a tribute to the genius of Atlas technology. He should have died, yet he lived. It was a wonder of the times.

As James struggled to adapt to his new body, and strove to regain the strength which had leached away as he lay in his bed, he had plenty of time to think. To brood.

James had always told Clover his semblance was a blessing. That night at the restaurant, he had been proved right. Clover had walked from the ruined building unhurt, whilst James had been crushed, ravaged beyond hope.

The luck was with only one person that night.

James told himself he was being unfair. He had heard Clover's horrified shout, as he had fallen. Of course it was not deliberate, intentional, an act of self-preservation. Clover couldn't always control it.

But he was unable to rationalise his way out of the mindset he'd created. The man he'd come to care for was ultimately responsible for his situation, even though he had not meant for it to happen.

"Would you like to see your visitor today, General?" The nurse's question jolted James from his thoughts. "Captain Ebi is outside."

Clover had called every day, and James had declined his visit every time. He couldn't bear to see him, and he couldn't bear the thought of Clover's eyes as he looked over what James had become.

"Not today, thank you," he said, for at least the hundredth time.

❖

To begin with, Clover wasn't sure he could ever go back to work. His dreams were haunted by fragments from that evening, and his days were spent in the medical wing, waiting.

Eventually Winter had stepped in, forcing his life back to a kind of normality. She ensured he ate properly, forced him to go to bed, and walked with him in the gardens when the weather was fine.

"He just won't see me. I don't understand."

"Maybe he wants to protect you, from seeing him in this state."

"But you've visited, Winter! Why not me?"

Winter had no answer. "Give him time. Maybe in a while..."

A while came and went, and Clover returned to work. He devoted all his attention to his job, pushing thoughts of anything else to one side. He still called in at the medical wing each day, receiving the same response.

"Not today, I'm afraid."

❖

James was finally discharged from medical care, moving back into his apartment, with a full-time attendant to help him in his return to a normal life. _Normal life! As if that's even possible now..._ It was a slow process, but eventually his recovery was sufficient for him to resume his position at work. James knew he had to face Clover, and he despised himself for leaving it so long. The memories of their time together were still there, but he kept them under cover, away from the light.

"General, Sir. It's good to see you." Clover stood stiffly in front of the large desk, his eyes fixed on a point behind James' chair.

"Captain Ebi... Clover." James paused, uncertain of how to continue.

"James... why wouldn't you let me see you? I went there every day..." Clover still stood to attention, as the tears trickled down his cheeks.

"At ease." James' voice was barely audible. "Clover, I— I don't know where to begin."

Clover moved towards the desk, but James raised a hand. "No, don't. We can't... _I_ can't go back to... how things were."

"What do you mean?" Clover rubbed at his face. "Why not?"

James drew a deep breath. "While I was in hospital, I went through a bleak spell, as you can imagine. I... decided you were to blame for my accident."

"But—"

"No, listen, Clover. I know it was unfair, but that was how my mind was working. You were lucky; you escaped. At the expense of those around you. I know that isn't truly how it was, but... it took me a long time to get past it. That's why I wouldn't see you, at first. I couldn't bear to see you, fit, and whole, when I..."

"At first? What about later?" Clover felt a heavy weight in his gut, a dragging sensation that seemed to pull at his heart.

"The medics did an amazing job. I should have died; they really did save my life. And now... now I'm half-man, half-machine." James' laugh held no humour at all.

"And that's brilliant, you're getting better, so we can—"

"No, we can't. Don't you see? I'm not the person I was... I've changed. And I don't know if I'll ever be that person again. The person you—"

Clover strode round the side of the desk, about to pull James from his chair. He reached for James' hand, his fingers closing over cold metal. Clover's eyes widened, and he withdrew his hand, taking a step back.

"You see?" James' voice was sad, but gentle. "This has changed me, and probably you too, Clover. We can't go back."

Clover turned away. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"I am too. But, life, it seems, goes on. So now, we are two serving officers who must do our jobs to the best of our abilities."

Clover returned to the far side of the desk. "Yes, Sir."

❖

Captain Ebi became the hardest-working, most diligent, and dedicated officer Atlas had seen for a long time. He inspired those who served beneath him, and was admired by everyone.

Winter knew that Clover and James had ended their relationship. She did not know the details, but tried hard to be a supportive colleague to both. The General committed himself to Atlas, vowing to protect all citizens from harm. He never spoke of what had happened between Clover and himself, and Winter did not presume to ask. The General seemed to harden, to close himself off from anything approaching intimacy with others. Winter could only respect this, and serve him as best she could.

❖

After some time had passed, Clover was chosen to head the Ace Operatives, the General's elite team of hunters. But Winter knew he still carried a hurt, deep within him.

"I know it sounds trite, Clover, but remember the old saying: _Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened_."

"You're right, it is trite. Thanks for trying, though." Clover smiled at her. _Smiling is easy, I can do it all day._ The smile never reached his eyes. "It was quite a while ago now, Winter. Time is a great healer, they say."

"Maybe one day... you never know. There might be someone else."

Clover gave her a flat look. "I doubt that." He looked like he was about to say more, when there was an interruption in his earpiece. He listened carefully to the raised voice at the other end.

"Affirmative, Alpha responding now." He tapped to close the call, saying to Winter, "I have to go. There are reports of an unauthorised airship which isn't answering our hails. It's just entered secure airspace, we need to check it out."

With a brief nod to Winter, Clover left the room. Sighing, she rose to her feet, and slowly followed. _He's still quite young, if he meets someone, maybe he can put this to rest._

She pulled the door shut behind her, pausing briefly to tug on her jacket to smooth it, before walking briskly down the corridor.

**Author's Note:**

> Friendly comments always appreciated, thank you.


End file.
